Hey everyone I am happy to say that I know have an amazing beta who will be helping editing my past and future content for a Chance for Change. so I am expressing some made beta love for ipushedthepencil, thank you, thank you, thank you.

Spells whipped around Hermione from every direction. She ran, frantically casting her own non-verbal spells, with one thing replaying in her mind over and over again: I must reach Dumbledore's office. Her legs carried her as fast as they could whilst avoiding the rubble, ruins, and the dead. So many dead, among them were Fred, Ron, Neville, Luna, and Harry, oh god, and Harry! When Hagrid laid Harry in front of those who fought with and for him, so many lost faith. More than half apparated, leaving only his truest followers behind. Hermione was one of them. She could not count the number of green flashes that had whipped past her that day, each barely missing her. Hermione found herself in a corridor full of duelers with both masked and unmasked Death Eaters fighting to eliminate the struggling students and teachers who remained. Helping her failing comrades Hermione did not know who barked the order to "kill the mudblood," but she refused to stick around to find out. As she reached the gargoyle Hermione took the stairs two at a time. Reaching the frame, Hermione called for her headmaster's help.

"Professor, please, the school is about to fall, and war is lost, and Harry is gone- please, please help me! I'm here just as you asked!"

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Hermione had found it odd that the Minister for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, had taken the time to read Dumbledore's will to herself, Ron and Harry. He had seemed so out of place in the Burrow.

'"To Miss Hermione Jean Granger, I leave my copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, in the hope that she will find it entertaining and instructive"… Why do you think Dumbledore left you that book, Miss Granger?' looking at her quizzically and with a furrowed brow. Hermione felt she needed to be careful about the way she answered his question

'He… He knew I liked books.'

'But why that particular book?... Did you ever discuss codes, or any means of passing secret messages, with Dumbledore?'

Scrimgeour must have interpreted her hesitation as an admittance of guilt as his second question was, in Hermione's view, well simply insane (or crazy if you prefer). From the bemused shaking of her head Minister Scrimgeour seemed to realize that no more helpful information would pass from Hermione's lips.

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'I found your instructions, sir! Please help me! The battle is surely lost and I barely made it here!'

Had Hermione not been looking carefully, she would have easily missed it. From its many years of being read and reread, the back cover had come away from the spine of the book. The parchment was meticulously folded and placed with care between the hardcover of the book and the paper that bound it to the novel itself. Hermione recognized the handwriting immediately.

"Come to me if the greater good shall fall. -AD"

From the newest frame in his former office, Dumbledore peered over his half-moon spectacles, and answered Hermione's prayers.

'Miss Granger, in the top drawer of the desk is a letter addressed to myself. Take it with you. Now, child, in the right corner of this frame there are two vials. Drink the first and then break the other. I cannot guarantee where or when you will land, Miss Granger, but seek my company immediately and show my past self the letter. Everything I need to know is in there. Good luck Miss Granger.'

Without ever questioning the motives of her headmaster, she drank the first small vial,which contained a potion that was murky green in color and felt velvety going down the back of her throat. But she barely had time to enjoy its faint hint of peppermint before smashing the tiny vial of sand on the hardwood floor of the office. Like a tornado in the desert, the sand engulfed her. It starved her of oxygen for what felt like an eternity, but in reality was only a few moments.

As the sandstorm disappeared, Hermione saw she was standing in the exact same place. Inspecting the office, she searched for any sign that she had indeed moved through time. But the only indicator of such a thing was that Dumbledore's portrait was missing. Hermione took a moment to soak in the silence. Running to the large windows of the headmaster's office what Hermione saw was peace. No rubble, no curses, and more importantly, no death. Hermione admired the circular office with all its curious silver instruments, the incredible collection of books, and the enormous, and often ominous claw-footed desk. Hermione remembered all too well the feelings she had standing in front of it with Harry and Ron beside her. Lost away in her fonder memories, Hermione didn't hear the door open. A throat cleared from behind her, bringing her back to reality with a slight jolt of surprise. Hermione turned cautiously and then, as if seeing a ghost, a gasp escaped her lips.

Dumbledore.

A/N

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